


Siren’s Call

by angelminie



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pole Dancing, Teasing, Yuuri in high-heels and a suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:00:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9266726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelminie/pseuds/angelminie
Summary: Viktor couldn’t trace back the steps he took to get where he was, could only remember Yuuri’s voice, closer to his ear than the man usually dared to be, telling Viktor that he had something interesting to show him. Asking Viktor to follow him in a tone of voice that had Viktor stopping everything he was doing just to obey him without a second thought.Viktor was sure he was caught in a trap, lured in by a siren’s call.





	

**Author's Note:**

> anyway, avoid watching pole dancing videos on youtube and imagining yuuri doing those things to viktor
> 
> seriously
> 
> love yourself
> 
> also I don't know how to title things

Yuuri Katsuki had always thought of himself as someone who had no experience with anything remotely sexual and would probably never have any, if the way he ran away from anything and anyone who got too close to him was anything to go by.

That was, of course, before Viktor Nikiforov entered his life like a hurricane, swallowing and messing up everything in his reach and kicking the door to Yuuri’s bubble of comfort open without an ounce of shame to spare. And bringing a lot of sexual appeal with him right into Yuuri’s personal space.

It took a while, but Yuuri started to open up, not only to Viktor himself, and to his own feelings towards his idol-turned-coach, but to his own sexual side. He had no choice but to do it, if he was to perform Viktor’s Eros choreography to its full capacity.

They both discovered very quickly that the Russian man had awakened a monster inside of Yuuri.

Which was how Viktor found himself sitting on a chair, his hands handcuffed behind him, a stage with a pole in its center in front of him. The lights were dimmed, with a reddish glow to them, spreading out throughout the room, but concentrating mostly in the center of the stage.

Viktor couldn’t trace back the steps he took to get where he was, could only remember Yuuri’s voice, closer to his ear than the man usually dared to be, telling Viktor that he had something interesting to show him. Asking Viktor to follow him in a tone of voice that had Viktor stopping everything he was doing just to obey him without a second thought.

Viktor was sure he was caught in a trap, lured in by a siren’s call.

A soft tune started to play, and Viktor dragged his gaze around the room, looking for the source of the sound more out of lack of what to do than actual curiosity.

Until a figure entered the stage and made his mouth go dry.

The thing about Yuuri Katsuki was that he could made Viktor’s brain go blank so often the Russian had trouble keeping up with him. He was delicate but strong, shy until Viktor teased him enough to make the man throw him against the wall and ravish him even with the danger of someone catching them in the middle of sex. He skated with the most heart and beauty Viktor had ever seen, and he played with Viktor’s heart in the sweetest and most delicious way.

Viktor often thought he had seen every side of Yuuri there was to see. He had even seen Yuuri, drunken out of his mind, pole dancing semi-naked in front of dozens of people without any shame.

Even with that, he wasn’t ready to see Yuuri pole dancing to him, specifically. Completely sober, in a suit that made him look hotter than any human being had the right to look—wearing a tie Viktor had bought him a few months ago, instead of the monstrosity he liked to wear just to piss Viktor off—but, instead of formal shoes, he was wearing—

—high heels. Black, simple, but very tall high heels. And he was walking on them like he was born for it, with a smirk on his face that, mixed with everything else, was making Viktor’s blood rush straight south.

He felt like a teenager, but that wasn’t news when it came to Yuuri. His fiancé had the awful talent of making Viktor feel like a lovesick horny fool.

Yuuri walked slowly around the pole, his hand not holding but caressing it, his hips swaying with the rhythm of the music. His hair was slicked back, leaving his expression visible for Viktor to drink in. He looked smug, his lips curled up and eyes promising Viktor’s complete demise. If the Russian saw a blush on his cheeks strong enough to be noticed even in the dimmed light, he wasn’t going to comment anything.

The song started to pick up, and Yuuri started to get bolder. Both on and off the ice, his body made love to any music he danced to, and now wasn’t any different. His entire body moved like one with the song he had chosen. It didn’t have lyrics, but Viktor could feel the erotic tone in it, calmer and more sensual than Eros but just as efficient in making Viktor melt under Yuuri’s gaze.

If Chris was somehow behind this, Viktor would need to have a word or two with him. If he somehow survived this whole ordeal.

Yuuri swung quickly around the pole before walking in front of it—in front of Viktor—and moving his hips side to side while his body slid down slowly, letting the jacket of the suit fall from his shoulders when he got down on his knees. He threw the jacket away with grace, and took off his tie while looking Viktor straight in the eyes. When it was finally off, he crawled until he could hook it behind his fiancé’s neck, pulling Viktor’s face closer to his own.

“I thought I should surprise you once more,” he whispered, his voice low enough to make goosebumps travel Viktor’s spine, but loud enough to be heard clearly on top of the music.

Viktor opened his mouth, intending to tell Yuuri something smooth, but his voice froze in his throat, and he was left gawking at the man in such a way that made Yuuri break out of his persona for a few seconds, giggling adorably and making Viktor’s heart hurt, before quickly going back to making his cock throb.

Yuuri turned around on his knees, leaving his tie hanging from Viktor’s shoulder, and arched his back, his hips moving while he threw Viktor a look from over his shoulder. He got up slowly, making a point to run his hands up his body and biting his index finger when he was done, smirking. 

He unbuttoned his white shirt, teasing Viktor more than once before finally tossing it out in the same direction of the jacket from earlier. His upper body was naked now, with no clothes to obstruct Viktor's vision—which should be a sin, the Russian thought. Yuuri would walk around their house naked at all times if he had his way.

Viktor was conscious of the near worship Yuuri had for his body, felt it in the way the man would rub, scratch, bite and kiss at his chest and abs when they were having sex, could see in the heated look Yuuri gave him when he walked around shirtless. Viktor was a proud man, and he was very conscious of the fact that he was attractive. 

Even so, he didn't think he stood a chance against Yuuri—had said so once, in which Yuuri promptly acted like he had committed the most awful blasphemy of all. His fiancé was all hard muscles from years of figure skating and its intense workouts, but he was soft at all the right places, which made the Russian weak on his knees if he thought too much about. His thighs were thick and firm, and Viktor loved to feel them smothering him when he was eating him out or giving him a blowjob. Viktor liked him off-season as well, when he would eat more than work out, and his body filled up again.

The Yuuri in front of him right now, though, was demanding his attention. 

He ran his nails down his chest, arching his back, goosebumps raising the fine hairs on his arms noticeably, until he reached his pants. Yuuri unbuttoned them with awful patience, his body rocking with the beat of the music, torturing Viktor like the sinful minx that he was. 

When he took his pants off, Yuuri was graceful in stepping out of them even while still in his high heels. How long he spent practicing this, and when he even found the time, Viktor couldn't fathom, wouldn't dream of asking to avoid Yuuri's complete embarrassment that would come as a result from his curiosity. 

He was wearing black boxers, tight enough that they didn't leave much for imagination—not that Viktor needed his imagination anyway, when he knew Yuuri's body even better than his own, had spent hours upon hours each day worshipping it. When Yuuri turned his eyes back to him and licked his lips, smiling in a way that was too genuine and full of joy to be seductive, but managing to seduce Viktor all the same, the Russian knew. 

Yuuri's real show would start now. 

And start it did. Without the restraining of clothing, Yuuri could move a lot more freely, and he took full advantage of that to wreck Viktor. He jumped up the pole and held himself upside down, his legs spreading perfectly, showing off his flexibility before hooking the pole behind his knee and spinning around it elegantly. 

He had clearly learned new tricks after the banquet. Seeing as he hadn't remembered it, he probably learned them after Viktor and the others had shown him the pictures and videos of that night. Yuuri had probably gotten the idea after finding out about Viktor's embarrassing free fall for him during and after his drunken mishaps. Yuuri was a cruel man. Damn his angelic face. 

He was clearly having fun, though. Viktor wanted to pull Yuuri to him, to kiss him and fuck him until his fiancé screamed, but he was firmly putting his needs aside right now to enjoy how sexy Yuuri looked, moving his body to the beat, jumping and moving around the pole, showing off his body and flexibility without shame. He looked sexier sober. Drunken Yuuri didn't stand a chance against this happy and confident Yuuri.

Viktor wanted his torment to end, his entire body was tense and he had been hard for so long it was actually hurting, but at the same he time didn't want the view in front of him to stop. Yuuri's confidence was a fragile thing that didn't appear often unless he was adopting a persona, or under influence of Viktor's heavy sexual teasing. The Russian appreciated every show of self-confidence his fiancé gave him, stored the images of a Yuuri that was genuinely happy with himself and free from anxieties and fears—even if for a few moments—in the part of his brain he reserved for the real important things in his life. Things he didn't want to forget, ever.

(He also stored them where he could summon them to jerk off in the awful and rare occasions they couldn't see each other for whatever reason, because a confident Yuuri often meant a dominant and very sexual Yuuri. Viktor thought it was the hottest thing in the world.) 

Yuuri's skin was shining with sweat, his breath quick as he kept putting on a show to Viktor. He stepped away from the pole, walking slowly in Viktor's direction, his body making a silent music of its own with its movements. He didn't stop at the end of the stage this time, though, but sat down with his legs dangling from it. His eyes screamed danger. 

He brought one of his feet to Viktor's crouch, his high heels digging into his cock on top of his expensive pants. It was the first touch to Viktor's painful hard-on after endless minutes of torture, and a groan tore itself from his throat. Yuuri tilted his head to the side, looking down on Viktor as if he was a piece of particularly delicious meat. Viktor was sure that same look was reflected in his own eyes.

Yuuri kept pressing the heel of his shoe against his crotch, dragging moans out of Viktor’s lips.

“Are you enjoying the show, Viktor?” he asked, his voice way too calm and collected for someone who was doing such intense workout just a few moments ago. He was in complete control over the situation, and he knew it.

When Viktor stuttered instead of answering, he pressed harder, almost to the point of pain, and seemed very satisfied at hearing the Russian’s broken whine.

“Y-Yes,” Viktor answered, his voice hoarse. “You’re an evil person, Yuuri.” The pleased smile on his face betrayed his words.

Yuuri bit his lower lip, a stray lock of hair escaping from his slick back hairstyle and his mouth twitching upwards for a second before his expression turned serious again.

“Good,” he said, getting out of the stage and putting himself on top of Viktor’s lap, faces awfully close. When Viktor tried to kiss him, struggling against the handcuffs holding his wrists, Yuuri pushed him back.

“No touching”—his voice was decisive—“and no kissing, until I say so.”

Viktor saw himself nodding, submissive, without a second thought. That tone in Yuuri’s voice turned him into a puddle in record time. Yuuri could probably order him to kill someone with that voice and Viktor would do it without a care in the world. He couldn’t bring himself to feel ashamed.

The song playing was a new one. Viktor didn’t know when the tracks changed, but the tune was significantly different, although still in the same style as the one Yuuri danced to before. This one was slower but the beat was stronger. For a few seconds, he could feel, more than he could see, Yuuri grinding on him in the same rhythm.

Yuuri got up from his lap, though. Apparently, he noticed with something akin to dread pooling on his lower half, Yuuri had decided to make Viktor his new pole and stage.

If Viktor thought watching Yuuri dancing from a distance was bad, he wasn’t prepared for watching and _feeling_ Yuuri from up close. The man was grinding and touching him, even if the Russian couldn’t do the same for him. He tried to struggle against his restrains again, but he knew it was to no avail.

Viktor groaned, a low and rough sound, all the patience he had mustered during this whole situation starting to vanish little by little.

He notice the little gasp that escaped Yuuri at hearing that sound, and the way his fiancé lost rhythm for a few moments, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whined, making his voice with a higher pitch than necessary for the sole purpose of sounding harmless even if it was too late for that, “you should uncuff me.”

Yuuri looked like a deer caught in the headlights before trying to school his expression into a serious, superior one again.

“The show isn’t over, Viktor,” he said, his voice sounding firmer than he looked.

“ _Yuuri_.”

His fiancé rolled his eyes, giving out an exaggerated sigh before walking towards the stage and picking the keys from the floor. Yuuri didn’t let the chance to tease Viktor a little more escape, though.

He sat on Viktor’s lap again, grinding his own erection slowly against the bulge he could feel in Viktor’s pants. He bit Viktor’s lower lip and Viktor received him with an aggressive kiss, all tongue and teeth, with none of the finesse he had taught Yuuri and that he usually had when they kissed. Yuuri’s movements turned quicker in response, both of them moaning on each other’s mouths.

“Yuuri!” Viktor said, loudly, his voice echoing above the music that still played in the background of their little world.

“Sorry, sorry!” Yuuri quickly tried his best to uncuff Viktor with shaking hands, and took three tries to manage to unlock the handcuffs and free Viktor’s wrists.

The second Viktor was free, he growled and threw himself at Yuuri, flinging both of them and the chair straight to the ground, his hand beneath Yuuri’s head to protect it from hitting the ground the only indication that he still had his wits on him. He sucked and bit at Yuuri’s neck, the man arching and moaning against him.

“Viktor, Viktor—” Yuuri moaned, pawing at the man’s shirt and trying to take it out of him, only managing to do it when Viktor gave his neck a few seconds break, tossing it to the side. “Viktor,” he whined, hooking his legs around Viktor’s hips and trying to grind his crotch against anywhere in the man’s body to get a bit more of friction against his tented boxers, “fuck me, now.”

“Goddamnit, Yuuri,” Viktor groaned. “You’re going to drive me insane one of these days.” He kissed him before moving his mouth lower to abuse one of Yuuri’s nipples, drawing a long moan from his throat while Yuuri pulled on his silver hair.

“Good.” His voice sounded strained and his breathing hitched every time Viktor sucked on his nipple, which started reddening from the rough treatment. “Then you’ll know”—a deep moan—“how I feel about you.”

“Believe me,” Viktor said, sliding Yuuri’s underwear down his legs slowly, the garment pulling Yuuri’s cock down, and Viktor looked with hungry eyes when it jumped back to Yuuri’s stomach after it was freed, “I know.” He mouthed at Yuuri’s balls to see his fiancé writhing beneath him.

“Viktor,” His impatient tone made him look up again. “Come _on_.”

He chuckled. “Oh, so now you’re in a hurry?” Viktor asked, mockingly. “I think I want to take my time with you after all that.” He moaned loud when Yuuri pulled his hair hard enough that his head was pushed back.

“No, you don’t.” He palmed Viktor through his pants and squeezed, delighted at the whimper that escaped the Russian’s mouth. “I think you want to bury yourself to the hilt inside of me and make me scream.”

Well—

—Viktor couldn’t argue with that.

He pushed his pants down enough to free his hard cock, and saw Yuuri lick his lips, his pupils blown wide.

“Lube, we need—” Viktor started.

“I prepared myself very well before this, we don’t need anything, just _do it_.”

“Yuuri, that’s not enough, it’s going to hurt—”

“Hurry _up_.” Yuuri used his legs to pull Viktor’s body against his and he took it upon himself to position Viktor’s cock against his hole.

Viktor frowned for a few seconds before noticing that Yuuri wasn’t backing out. “If it hurts, you tell me and we’ll stop. You know that, right?”

“Yes, yes, _yes_ , please.”

Viktor was satisfied enough with that answer, and he thrust his hips forward, entering Yuuri slowly, until his fiancé used his legs to push his hips closer and shove Viktor’s cock all inside in one quick thrust.

Yuuri moaned so loud that his voice echoed through the entire room, his eyes watering as he dragged his nail down Viktor’s back hard enough to leave angry red marks in their wake. A broken sob escaped from the Russian’s lips and he could barely stop himself from thrusting continuously inside of the other man.

“Are you okay?” he asked, kissing Yuuri’s cheek with a sweetness that didn’t match the mood they had set, but Viktor couldn’t bring himself to care. Yuuri’s well-being was the most important part of all this.

“Yeah,” Yuuri asked, smiling at him. “Keep going, don’t make me wait.”

And Viktor didn’t.

Being inside Yuuri was always a heavenly experience, but when Yuuri was squirming and moaning loudly with pure enthusiasm and not a hint of shame, it managed to feel even better. Yuuri knew Viktor needed his voiced consent at all times, but he was usually shy, quiet in telling his fiancé exactly what he needed, and Viktor thought it was cute—there wasn’t anything that Yuuri did that wasn’t somehow cute in Viktor’s eyes.

But when Yuuri got into this very particular mood, either by himself or because of Viktor pushing him too hard, it was hot. So hot Viktor forgot how to breathe sometimes. His loud moans and demands made Viktor’s insides boil, forced him to drive into him harder and harder until Yuuri was drawing blood from Viktor with his nails and until Yuuri could barely make a sound from how overwhelmed he was, gasping with his mouth open.

Viktor gave his fiancé an open-mouthed kiss, tasting Yuuri’s breathless moans on his tongue. Yuuri was clenching and unclenching around his cock repeatedly and it was driving him wild. Viktor held Yuuri’s thigh with one hand, keeping the other on the ground to help his balance, and his nails were digging into Yuuri’s skin, leaving indentations in his smooth skin.

He angled his thrusts in the right way to hit Yuuri’s prostate every time, and Yuuri hissed, bringing one of his hands to his own hair and pulling on it, completely overwhelmed.

Viktor let go of Yuuri’s thigh when he felt his orgasm building dangerously fast in the pit of his stomach, making his toes curl and his body get more and more aggressive. He jerked Yuuri’s cock quickly, dragging his thumb on the slit just like he knew his fiancé liked, and if he could brand the image of Yuuri, thrashing around violently before coming so hard Viktor thought his cock would get crushed inside of him, he would.

With how tight Yuuri had become after coming, Viktor had his own orgasm almost punched out of him, sucking at Yuuri’s neck and coming inside of him for what felt like minutes on end, but was probably just a few moments. When he came back from his high, he released Yuuri’s neck and was very satisfied to see a very visible mark that would probably stay for a few days.

When Viktor pulled his cock out of Yuuri carefully and looked back at his fiancé, he looked vaguely annoyed.

“Did you really need to give me a hickey right there?” he asked, covering the mark with one of his hands. “It’s gonna be a pain to cover it.”

“Then don’t,” Viktor said, looking way too happy with himself, and lifting Yuuri’s hand to give the mark a short kiss. “Show everyone you’re mine.”

“We have _rings_ to show that.”

Viktor chuckled and kissed Yuuri, just a touch of their lips, with no wild lust driving them both crazy.

“Can you tell me what brought all of this on?”

Yuuri smiled, his cheeks blushing for more than the effort of the sex they just had. It seemed like he was going back to his normal, shy self. Viktor loved him.

“Well… I figured I might as well give you a better version of that banquet, while sober and knowing what I was doing.”

Viktor gave him a look.

Yuuri looked away. “Chris might have commented that he found a guy who could install a pole for a good price because he was thinking about surprising his boyfriend. It might have gotten me interested.”

Viktor laughed loudly. “Oh, Yuuri,” he said, his voice softening. He kissed Yuuri again.

“Now, we really need to take a shower. I feel disgusting.” Yuuri said, gently pushing Viktor away from him.

Viktor hoped that meant a round two.


End file.
